


In Honor Of

by nebula_vs_supernova



Series: Fandom Oneshots and Drabbles and Everything in Between [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Bucky Barnes-centric, Character Death, Complete, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, POV Bucky Barnes, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebula_vs_supernova/pseuds/nebula_vs_supernova
Summary: A young soldier enters a program to make a super soldier in a misguided attempt to honor a friend of his back home.He never comes back.





	In Honor Of

**Author's Note:**

> I never write first person. I hate it.

_I failed._

My stomach hurt, my chest. The weak pressure of my hand against my chest and stomach paled against the throb of my heart.

_I failed._

My vision had faded like everything around me was some crap movie. Then there was what I was half sure was a hallucination -- the kid sitting criss-cross next to me.

I hadn't seen the kid in ages, but his hair was vivid blond against the darkening background. Brilliant blue eyes stared down at me as he sang the national anthem under his breath. He was still spindly and fragile-looking like some kind of waif, like the next breeze would blow him right over.

"Hey, Buck?" He asked, bouncing a bit from where he sat. The noise was abrupt.

_Why did you stop singing?_

"Yeah?" I coughed at the bits of blood that bubbled up from my pierced lung.

"Did you get the bad guys?" He asked, head tilted slightly and some kind of ethereal smile on his face.

I shook my head. "Sure I took some of 'em though." He frowned at that.

_Did I upset him?_

"Then why are you dying?"

"Sometimes you're just not strong enough, Steve." I hated how the words tasted in my mouth.

_"Sometimes you're just not strong enough, James."_

_Condolences._

"Why not? Can't you just get stronger?"

I grimaced. "Not always."

_You couldn't. Goddamn, why couldn't you?_

Steve frowned severely and went back to singing the Star Spangled Banner quietly. He didn't look too broken up about the whole ordeal, and that was one of two things that made me doubt that this was real.

The other being that I went to his funeral before I was deployed.

"Steve?"

"Yeah, Buck?" He replied, cutting his solo short again.

I swallowed hard.  _Why was my throat so dry?_ "Does dying hurt?"

Steve shook his head, a smile coming back to his face. "Not really.  _How_ you die might hurt, but then it's like everything kind of stops. Like a sudden blast of color and life, and then numbness sets in. It's just kind of..." Steve stopped to try to find the word, "anticlimactic, I guess."

"Did you go to heaven?"

He seemed surprised by that.  _Why wouldn't he go to heaven? Or was he more concerned as to why I was asking?_

"I followed you."

I laughed. It hurt, but I laughed. "Sorry for the disappointment then."

If the kid could frown anymore than that. "Why would I be disappointed?"

Because I killed people. Because I was mean. Because I didn't help that kid that was being held hostage. Because I'm a goddamn heathen next to you, my saint best friend -- my  ** _dead_** _saint best friend._

Instead, I shrugged as much as I could without losing my guts. "Why not?"

"Bucky, you're my best friend. I love you. I'm  _proud_ of you." Steve was quiet, but I could still hear him over the buzzing in my ears. "You joined the army to defend the little guy -- guys like me. You're my hero. Why would I  _ever_ be disappointed?"

"Fuck, you're a boyscout." I laughed, and it seemed easier this time, but everything but my dead best friend was almost black. "I almost beat the guy that killed you to death."

"But you didn't." Steve leaned a bit closer to me, his hand going over one of my wounds and warming it. "Even if you had, he was a bully who deserved it."

_You're_ _**definitely** _ _not real. Stevie would never say that._

Still though, the presence -- whether an illusion or not -- was comforting. I suppose it was better than being alone.

Granted, I  _knew_ that American soldiers were fighting and dying on the same field I was bleeding on, but it really didn't seem to matter now.

"Stevie?" I asked quietly, reaching out my hand to a friend I fucking knew was already six feet under.

He smiled warmly in that way that lit up his whole face. "It's gonna be alright, Buck." His hand slipped into mine and squeezed gently as if trying to comfort me.

_Hell. I must really be on death's door to hallucination this vividly._

"If you say so." I agreed.

Blurry figures loomed over from the opposite side that Steve sat on like dark clouds boding an inauspicious omen. Sharp mumbles and shouts were drowned from the humming in my ears, but it was no big deal.

I chuckled lowly to myself. "Until the end of the line."

"It's the end now." Stevie grinned, releasing my hand to get to his feet. "Ready to follow me?"

"To heaven or hell." I answered, feeling the sharp pain in my body snap off like someone hit the "off" switch.

Just like he said, everything went bright. The glaring gold of Steve's hair and the aggressive blue of my own suit brightened into the truest shades I'd ever seen, and Steve grinned even wider as if to say, "I told you so, dork".

"Where we headed?" I asked, getting to my feet with the newfound lightness of my body.

Steve smirked as I threw an arm over his shoulder just like I always did. "Wherever we care to be."

In death, I felt weaker, but I also felt more normal than I had in the past years I had served as Captain America. I'd only done everything to honor Steve. Now, it wasn't necessary.

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were back together, and nothing would force either of us away again. This time, I would protect Stevie better. This time, he wouldn't die.

_On to the next._


End file.
